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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28548087">I have lost for that faith more than thou canst bestow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantaray97/pseuds/Mantaray97'>Mantaray97</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>England Series - K. J. Charles, The Will Darling Adventures - K.J. Charles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Antisemitism, Archie being Viking, Daniel is impressed, First Meetings, Kim being Kimmish, Once a poet..., Pre-Canon, Quoting contest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:40:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28548087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mantaray97/pseuds/Mantaray97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Secretan stays at a country house, feeling lost and low. One evening he involves himself in an incident between two guests, which proves to be life-changing.</p><p>Spoiler alerts to: Think of England, The Sugared Game both by K. J. Charles.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Secretan &amp; Daniel da Silva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I have lost for that faith more than thou canst bestow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gloucestershire, Autumn 1919</p><p>It was Friday night, and Lord Arthur Aloysius Kimberley de Brabazon Secretan, the younger son of the Marquess of Flitby, Kim to his friends - rather few of those, lately - and Lord Arthur to the rest, hadn’t had a drink in an hour or so, and was beginning to feel the unpleasant effects of it. First, there was the awareness. The feeling he was being constantly stared and murmured at. He didn’t mind being the object of disapproval and contempt, since he wholeheartedly agreed that he deserved them, but he did resent noticing.<br/>
Then, when he was not drunk there was the need to wash and get dressed, to look at himself in the mirror in the process, and to actually pay attention. It was the sure and fast way to think of Henry, the brother who had looked so much like him. Snap out of it, he’d say to himself. So what if he had had the same eyes and brows, and made that same twitchy movement with his lips when he was deep in thought. Henry was gone. Died in the trenches because of Kim’s cowardice and defiance, and nothing will bring him back or restore the ties that had been severed. </p><p>No point in fighting it; he knew what he wanted. He walked to the decanter and poured himself a respectable brandy, tossed it back and poured another.<br/>
He was sitting in the billiard room, in a chair by the door with a book, but he didn’t care and neither did anyone else. He knew that he was invited here, to Upper Slaughter Castle by the Lord and Lady Rech-Capell, merely to be another title on the list after the end of the season.<br/>
He sighed and glanced at the thin volume in his hand. “The Fish-pond. Poems by Daniel da Silva”. Relatively modern, fragments of poetry. Good, daring, and the fellow who'd written it - Kim rather liked the foreign name - gave the air of someone who knew enough about Kim's current disposition towards society. He was about to sink himself back into the rather intriguing murky world, when he’d noticed the raw.</p><p>Lord Rech-Capell seemed to be very displeased, but his good friend and brother-in-law, Sir Simon Linioe, was furious about something. The “something” appeared to be a lean man, standing in front and a bit to Kim’s right. He was a bit shorter, handsome enough in Kim’s eyes, with hair and eyes even darker than his own and heavy eyelids. He leaned slightly on a heavy billiard stick in a way that indicated that his lazy, calm pose could turn to a defensive or an offensive one at any moment.<br/>
“You’re a damned sharp!” Linioe roared.<br/>
"Come now, Simon” Rech-Capell was saying. “Mr. da Silva beat you fairly, and that’s that. You knew he was notoriously good at it. Come on, you could use a quiet drink in my study”. He put a soothing hand on Linioe’s arm and dragged him out. “Sorry about that, Mr. da Silva. I do hope we can put this little incident behind us”. </p><p>They went out, but before the door was fully closed Leinio stepped back in. “Why are you here playing with us, decent, respectable lot anyway?” he snarled in a lowered tone. “It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you put on a little hat and a blankie with fringes, and bend about with this fat book of your people?” </p><p>From his seat close to the door, Kim could see that da Silva paled visibly. He got unsteadily to his feet and stood between da Silva and Linioe.<br/>
“Decent and respectable people, not to mention gentlemen, do not jab at a man’s religion, Sir Simon. Do you deem yourself so pure that you are allowed to lave your shortcomings at billiard with insults?” He staggered slightly. “I suggest you go and lave them with some fine brandy instead. Oops, sorry” he added as the liquid from his glass splashed across Linioe’s shirt. “My apologies. I will send my man for it, of course”. With his other hand he shoved Linioe back and shut the door. Then he went back to his seat, steadier than before. </p><p>Da Silva let out a breath. “Do you often meddle with such Byronic flair in other people’s quarrels, Lord Arthur? That was very fine and noble and you have my thanks, but it was, how should I put it, one shade the more”.<br/>
Kim sat up a bit and looked at him with interest. “I wasn’t planning to. It’s just that…” he raised his glass.<br/>
Da Silva winced. “You know, it was hard not to notice that you used that as a mere excuse”, his eyes flashed to the book that Kim set by his seat before getting up. “Funny. Where did you come across that?”<br/>
Kim shrugged. “The library”.<br/>
"Any good?” da Silva inquired.<br/>
“Pretty much, yes. Fragmental poetry, you know. Interesting imagery, very uncommon. Very alluring” Kim noticed something. “Wait, you have the same last name as the author. I do not mean to pry, but are you related?”<br/>
Da Silva’s face was unreadable. “There is some relation, yes. It will make him happy to know that it’s still being appreciated. Please excuse me, Lord Arthur. It is getting rather late, and being a bit older than you are I tend to feel it. Good night”. He’d left.<br/>
Kim poured himself another brandy. A smaller one, this time.</p><p>Kim got down to breakfast late the next day. He was hoping to spend it on his own, but da Silva was there, with a tall and bulky man who Kim knew as Mr. Curtis, a Boer War hero. Curtis wore a glove on his right hand, and as Kim moved into the room he nodded in greeting.<br/>
“Good morning, Lord Arthur. I understand you’d extended your support to my friend last night and I thank you for it” he extended his hand.<br/>
Da Silva made a disgusted noise. “Curtis, please, we don’t want that little incident to start circling about. You know that it happens all the time”. </p><p>Kim took the gloved hand and kept his face from showing any surprise at the partial lack of fingers. Curtis, watching him intently, smiled. Kim felt the need to elaborate. “It was nothing. I had some Jewish friends when I was with the…” he trailed off.<br/>
Da Silva nodded. Kim's past association with Bolshevist groups was common knowledge. “Ah, you probably mean that Not without Abraham’s Seed can Russia march“.<br/>
Kim stared at him. Da Silva’s eyes twinkled momentarily, and then were covered by his eyelids.<br/>
Curtis frowned. “Da Silva, if I was supposed to get it, I’d hate to tell you that this went completely amiss”.<br/>
Da Silva gave him a fond smile. “Oh no, you weren’t. Lord Arthur caught it”.<br/>
Kim went on. “I find that type of comments thoroughly indecent, and had had enough brandy to make me interfere, in some poor taste. That is all”. He felt himself blush, cursed under his breath, and bit into a piece of toast.<br/>
Da Silva bowed his head slightly. “Indeed, they are horrible, not to mention vaguely ludicrous. Thank you again, Lord Arthur”.<br/>
"Baudelaire” Kim blurted.<br/>
Curtis frowned. “Really? I could have sworn your name is Secretan”.<br/>
Da Silva massaged the bridge of his nose. “Curtis old chap, they are due to gather for that horrid trip to Bourton-on-the-Water in fifteen minutes. You really ought to hurry”. </p><p>Curtis bid them a good day and withdrew. Kim vaguely wondered how could it be that two so obviously different men were such close friends, as their open manner suggested.<br/>
“Aren’t you going?” He asked after a pause.<br/>
“No”, da Silva made a face. “I’m afraid I get bored easily in the countryside, and besides, I have some work to catch up on in the library. From the fact that you’re still sitting here and not dashing to join Curtis, I gather that you will not be going as well”.<br/>
“I’ve got a mild headache,” Kim admitted lightly. He didn’t, so to speak. He felt uncomfortable, and hoped to start fixing it with some more drinking. He looked over, and saw da Silva was giving him an assessing look that was instantly hidden. “Too bad,” he said finally. “The weather is perfect now, though I daresay it will be rain tonight. well, have a good day, Lord Arthur. Duty calls”. He got up and left.<br/>
“I’m staying indoors, so let it come down” Kim muttered, finished his toast, and followed.</p><p>A few hours later he was wandering about, close to the billiard room and Rech-Capell’s study. The day was lovely, and he’d felt so much better now that he’d had a drink. Today he chose a very adequate bourbon, merely as a salute to the travelers’ destination. He’d felt very witty about it, but… what good did being witty do, if there was no one around to share the joke with?<br/>
At that moment, he’d heard a muffled noise.<br/>
It sounded like papers, a lot of them, tumbling onto the floor.<br/>
But… there was nobody in but him and da Silva.</p><p>Kim wondered what kind of game the man was playing. He edged on towards the door to the study, that stood slightly ajar, and peered in.<br/>
The man inside was turning Rech-Capell’s desk inside out, so it would seem. He was bent over so Kim could not see him, but he had heard papers being shuffled and the muttering of curses. He wondered what to do.<br/>
Evidently, something was going on, something very wrong. A burglary. A crime, but that was, nonetheless, none of his business. He should walk away. Pour himself another drink, and try to forget about --- about everything. He should not get involved in things that were not related to him even remotely; he didn’t even like his host. He didn’t even know what should be done now.</p><p>Cursing himself internally, Kim sneaked closer, and looked. The man in the room was busy leafing through some more papers, and eventually straightened wearing an evident grin. It was Linioe. </p><p>Later, much later, Kim would wonder what it was that made him decide to act, in an effort to protect the privacy and belongings of a man to whom he was no more than a tolerable parasite, that might just be a useful lever in the future. </p><p>He never really found out. He just jumped into the room without any thought of arms, and yelled “Stop!”.<br/>
Linioe froze and hesitated, and as fast as he could snatched a document off the table and held it behind his back. “Sir Simon”, Kim started. “What are you doing here?”<br/>
Linioe’s eyes darted around, and he smiled nervously. “You’d caught me, Lord Arthur,” he smiled. “I was just arranging a small prank for Lord Paul. With the Lady’s approval and blessing, of course. It will be so amusing for us all at dinner”.<br/>
“Really?” Kim asked.<br/>
"Of course. How else would I have a key?" Linioe produced it. "My sister gave it to me. Go on Lord Arthur, there is nothing to see here. Get another drink, your glass is nearly empty. May I suggest that very good port right here?" He extended his hand, took Kim's glass, and turned to the small table in the back. "In fact, I am in the mood for some myself," he continued in an almost cheerful tone.<br/>
"Thank you, Sir. I would like just a little bit," Kim noticed that whatever it was that Linioe held behind his back, was now in his pocket.<br/>
He glanced at the desk. It was cleared. He moved his foot, and heard the faint rustle of a small, folded paper that probably fell off the surface, and then somehow slid all the way under the desk. He picked it up quickly and quietly, and put it deep in his pocket soundlessly. </p><p>Linioe just turned then, with two glasses. He handed Kim his and came over to his side of the desk. "It is a lucky coincidence that we met here. I really ought to apologise for the way I spoke to that sharp da Silva in your presence. It was… uncalled for. These things should be resolved in private, without unnecessary agitation to others. So, I do hope things are mended between us,"<br/>
Kim took the glass from him and smelled the wine. It felt different somehow. Linioe did take a long time pouring it, he thought. Then he smiled, raised the glass to chink it against Linioe's, and with an artful, uncareful movement spilled almost half of it over him. Linioe yelped in surprise and exasperation. "Oh no! I do apologise!" Kim exclaimed, and put his glass on the desk. He took out his handkerchief and started dabbing at Linioe. "So sorry. It was all my fault. So careless of me" he held Linioe against the desk and didn't let him move. Finally, Linioe tore himself loose.<br/>
"Nevermind, nevermind, I said" his voice rose unpleasantly "nevermind that, you sil--, I mean, Lord Arthur!" He looked beyond annoyed. "Just let us drink up. Come on, Lord Arthur, drink". He lifted the glass and put it in Kim's hand. His eyes were intent.<br/>
"Oh, I think I shall pass this time," Kim replied.<br/>
"No. I am afraid that you will drink with me. Now," Linioe's tone was low. He was shorter than Kim, but much broader and heavier. "Come on, Lord Arthur. You are being somewhat impolite".</p><p>"Don't" came a quiet, decisive voice. Da Silva stood there, eyes flashing.<br/>
"You" Linioe growled. "What do you want in here? Get away. This is none of your business".<br/>
"But I'm afraid it is," said da Silva in a soft tone that made Kim shudder. He took the glass from Kim, and tasted the remains. "I saw you pour Lord Arthur this port, and tasting it, it's apparent that it contains liquid morphine".<br/>
"Something rich and strange…" Kim mumbled, understanding dawning on him.<br/>
"My Lord, this is hardly the time for it" da Silva snapped, eyes still on Linioe. "Besides, Sir Simon, it is my duty to inquire at the purpose of the search you obviously conducted in your brother-in-law's private papers".<br/>
"I have a key" Linioe growled.<br/>
"Void claim. A key could be obtained unlawfully, and the fact that you use it now when his Lordship is out, speaks volumes". </p><p>Linioe stared back - and then reached to his belt, and a knife appeared in his hand. He lunged at da Silva. Kim didn't even think. Da Silva was standing behind the entrance a little to his right, and he took that step and stood in Linioe's way.<br/>
"Don't be stupid" he'd heard both men shout, one snarling, the other exasperated. "Run! I'll stall him!" He yelled at da Silva, and heard him mutter something like "young oaf" in reply. Linioe hesitated for a second, and then passed the knife to his left in a deft movement, and shoved Kim hard right and forward, so he was thrown out of the room and out of his way.<br/>
Kim tumbled and fell over, and when he lifted his head he saw Linioe charging at da Silva, knife still in his left… and then a strong hand stopped him in his tracks.<br/>
The right hand of a big, tall man, wearing a black leather glove. </p><p>Kim was never keen about sports, and certainly not about boxing. He passed his university days reading with gusto, writing and discussing poetry, philosophy, politics and art with men similarly inclined in halls, libraries, pubs or beds. But he could not but admire the perfect left hook that trailed and caught Linioe's ear and jaw. His eyes glazed, he fell over, and Kim saw the big and quiet Curtis behind him, eyes glowing with a terrible light.<br/>
He bent over and took the knife in his right, gloved hand carefully. "Alright, Secretan?" Kim nodded. "Good. Take this with your handkerchief, and fetch something to tie him with" Curtis told Kim with military authority.<br/>
Kim used his belt, and Curtis nodded his approval. He turned to da Silva, eyes filled with concern.<br/>
"Daniel, are you hurt?"<br/>
Da Silva shook his head. Curtis touched his shoulder gently. Da Silva's tone was neutral, almost bland. "Mjölner, hammer of Thor, smote at just the perfect moment. I honestly don't know how you do it".<br/>
Curtis raised a brow. "I had time to connect the dots during the trip, and realised who was the scaly, slimy creature at the depths of this pond". Da Silva winced. Curtis beamed. "This is my favorite, you do know that".<br/>
"Now I believe that there are unicorns…" da Silva muttered. Kim smiled involuntarily.<br/>
Curtis seemed baffled for a moment. "I know that one. Wait" he thought. "It'll come to me in time. Oh! Hark, I hear them" he added, visibly enjoying himself.<br/>
Kim noticed a warm smile that dawned on da Silva's lips, reaching his eyes that were still resting softly on Curtis, and vanishing. He averted his gaze.</p><p>A few hours later, after all the mess of police work, shocked guests and Rech-Capells was over, Kim sat in his room. A soft knock came.<br/>
"Come in" he said, and da Silva entered.<br/>
"May I have a moment of your time, Lord Arthur?"<br/>
"I think that after that scene, I'd prefer it if you called me Kim. Or Secretan, if it's more convenient".<br/>
"Very well then. You probably have a great many questions," da Silva said. "I will answer whichever I can. But first, I must express my gratitude for once again stepping in harm's way for me. It was very brave indeed, although you could have thrown your life and health away". He smiled ruefully. "I do believe that Lord Byron would appreciate that one even more," he added sardonically.<br/>
"Especially the bit where I fell down on my arse" Kim retorted.<br/>
"Oh, rest assured he'd have found a formidable way to describe that part. But really, Secretan, you conducted yourself admirably. Even Curtis is immensely impressed. He said that he wouldn't have kicked you out of his platoon, and coming from a Veteran Viking like him it is a compliment". He was silent for a moment. "Anyway, this was a grimy business. We have Linioe for the assault and for the attempted poisoning - the morphine dosage in your port could have induced a coma, by the way. I was hoping to pin him for some papers, but these could not be found". He gave a frustrated sigh. "Oh well, I guess that what we have on him will keep him from causing further damage". </p><p>Kim took two papers out of his pocket and handed them over. "I believe this is what will put your mind at peace with all below", he said.<br/>
Da Silva opened them. "What… how?" He seemed at a loss for words.<br/>
"I found the first on the floor. Linioe had tried to distract me and kick it away, but it practically reached my foot. The other one I palmed off him when I was wiping the port I spilled".<br/>
Da Silva gaped. "That" he said and sat down by Kim. "That is very, very good. Very quick. I think I am even more impressed than Curtis". He looked at Kim. "There is an MP or two who will be incredibly happy to have those papers within their reach. You are a valuable man, Secretan".<br/>
Kim's lips twitched. "I am not. It was just a bit of luck," he looked at da Silva. "You know about my history. You know how despicable I am to all those people. How can Curtis, who knows what war is like" his voice broke a little. "How can he respect me? How can you? I had faith," the words burst out. "I have lost for it more than any gratitude can bestow. The moth will survive me, and that will be the end of it".<br/>
"Excellent. This is exactly what I want" da Silva's tone was cool and matter-of-fact.<br/>
Kim blinked.<br/>
Da Silva looked at him with deep, serious eyes. </p><p>"אל תהי בז לכל אדם ואל תהי מפליג לכל דבר, שאין לך אדם שאין לו שעה ואין לך דבר שאין לו מקום".<br/>
Kim stared at him. Da Silva continued. "It is in Hebrew, from a work that collects wise sayings of Jewish sages, our sages, and interprets and discusses them. It means roughly 'thou shall not despise any man or disregard any thing, but know that there is a time for every man and a place for every thing'. What's past is prologue, and nothing ever stays the same. I want to offer you a time and a place, Secretan".<br/>
Kim swallowed. "It is intrigue, of course" he said hesitantly.<br/>
Da Silva smiled. "The Great Game, and I do have the honour of being something of a player myself. Efficiency, efficiency, you know how they say. I think you have a knack for it. So, I will leave you to think it over. Contact me at this address if you choose to accept my offer". He gave Kim a card. "Well, back to packing". He paused. "Regardless of your decision, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Quite a rare one". He got up. </p><p>"Hold on, please," Kim said. "I do accept your offer". Da Silva seemed pleased. "But. Umm. Daniel, I did enjoy this very much," Kim took Rech-Capell's copy of "The Fish-pond" out of his bag. "I would appreciate an autograph. And a dedication," he added.<br/>
Now it was da Silva's turn to stare.<br/>
Kim looked back, unnerved. "Well, I hardly think they'd miss it, and I do think it deserves a better home. Books are a passion of mine".<br/>
Da Silva took an audible breath.<br/>
"And it is not one weak enough to be restrained, I see. Very well," he said. "A pen, if you will".<br/>
Kim handed him his best pen, freshly filled with purple ink. Da Silva winced. Kim shrugged.<br/>
Da Silva wrote in silence, closed the book, handed it back.<br/>
"As of now I consider you a recruit," his voice cut. "And as such, you will address me as DS. Is that clear?"<br/>
"Crystal".<br/>
Da Silva lowered his voice. "DS. Nothing to do with any literary, poetic types".<br/>
Kim smiled, put the book in his bag and stood up as well. "DS. Got it. You need not worry about it. I am a Secret-an, after all".<br/>
Da Silva's eyes brimmed with amusement. "Awful. Been planning it for long, have you?" He extended his hand, and Kim took and shook it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>List of referenced works, by order of appearance:</p><p>Oh Weep for Those / Lord Byron<br/>She Walks in Beauty / Lord Byron<br/>The Age of Bronze / Lord Byron<br/>The Blind / Charles Baudelaire<br/>Macbeth / William Shakespeare<br/>The Tempest / William Shakespeare<br/>Mjölner, Hammer of Thor / Amon Amarth<br/>Were My Bosom as False as Thou Deemst it to Be / Lord Byron<br/>From Job / Lord Byron<br/>משנה אבות ד' ג'<br/>Nothing Song / Alice in Chains<br/>Kim / Rudyard Kipling<br/>Paris 1919 / John Cale<br/>The Marriage of Heaven and Hell / William Blake</p></blockquote></div></div>
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